Times of Change
by lostpotter
Summary: As it happened, Lizzie and Will should have gotten together years before they did. Circumstance, it seems, makes all the difference.
Just a plot bunny I found while I was traveling. Might become a real story, might not.

thanks for reading :)

 **Times of Change**

It was 2012 when she stepped into her first real university lecture. Her sister was on her penultimate semester at the private college near their hometown. Her younger sisters were, respectively, in a goth phase, officially cancer free for 5 years, and only just thinking boys might be more than walking germs.

His early August White Coat Ceremony was in 2012—a year too late on the timeline his father had made so many years ago. Officially, that made him simply another nontraditional student. He didn't mind. Not with his little sister so happily situated at Interlochen and his cousin finally getting back to his militaristic dreams. The entire family, it seemed, stayed suspended in the year following his father's unexpected death. But the spell was finally broken. Almost unanimously, everyone decided enough was enough and to move on.

* * *

In 2015, barely, she sat for what turned out to be her most important interview. For twenty-five of the thirty minutes she had been allotted, the third member of her inquiring panel simply stared at her. She wasn't fazed. She certainly wasn't impressed. When tall-dark-and-handsome finally did speak she maintained her composure with so much grace and dignity, her place in the school was absolutely assured. Yes, she was indeed the first of her family to even consider a degree higher than a Bachelor's, but the tone he used; the arrogance that had dripped from the—otherwise—innocent question. Her mother's new CNA licensure was most in use at home with her father following the heart attack. Her older sister was well established in the middle school near their parents' place. Her younger sister, Mary, was up to her eyes studying for her psychology finals. Kitty, next in line, was only just finishing high school. Her youngest sister, Lydia, was the freshman related to the girl who used to have cancer and hated the distinction.

Returning from his fourth venture in a clinic, he only happened to be in his favorite professor's office when the admissions head popped in. With a carefully hidden grimace, he accepted the offer to sit in on a few interviews for the newest class. The last applicant of the day turned out to be a brunette of average height with above average intelligence shining, somehow, in her eyes. His only question for her, really, wasn't particularly insulting. His tone, however, and the astonishment written all over his face was absolutely belligerent. His sister was dabbling in writing her own compositions. His cousin was set to arrive stateside any day, sans the majority of his right leg.

* * *

It was 2017 and she was ecstatic to be chosen as one of the few med students ever allowed on a mission before going through even one clinical rotation. She had only just finished her second year. The whole experience, from meeting the rag-tag group of medical personnel to her solo encounter with a difficult labor and delivery, was absolutely all that she had hoped it would be and more save one thing. She was sitting on the edge of the group with her back against a pillar when her newly powered phone came alive with messages, voicemail indications, and missed call alerts. Her father succumbed to his second heart attack, presumably, as he slept by the fire in his bookroom that afternoon. Book still in hand; his expression was peaceful in death. Arrangements were to be made only after she, the wayward daughter, was found and consulted. Her mother was locked in her room with a single dose of a sedative. Her older sister was engaged as of the week before to an affable blond lawyer whom she'd been seeing a little over a year. Mary was getting ready to discuss, seriously, graduate school in psychology or med school for psychiatry. Kit, as she insisted being called, was fresh from her first year in university and absolutely sure that nursing was the perfect career for her. Lydia was finally being taken seriously as her own person, especially by her new—older—boyfriend.

His intern exam had barely returned his passing score when he dashed out of the room and all the way to his brand new, 2017, Jeep Wrangler. He only had two hours before he had to meet the group of various medical students and professionals at the airport. Their destination was set for Nicaragua for sixteen days of clinics for the native peoples in the middle of nowhere. Though not usually religious, he was in the middle of thanking God for sending him his green-eyed-beauty at last before he even knew he was praying. Spending the time working with her was exquisite torture. She was the very definition of the perfect medical mission physician in every possible way—having proven herself invaluable by delivering a breech baby to one village leader's daughter such that both mother and babe survived the ordeal. The moment she learned the news of her father's death, he and everyone else in the group, knew. Her transformation from exhausted but absolutely joyous to rock-bottom-depressed would have been comical—in their extreme portrayals—in any other context. The shattered, distraught, helplessness in her green eyes haunted him in the years that followed. His sister, having had a few of her compositions preformed in various prestigious cities by their even more prestigious orchestras, was readily accepted in Juilliard. His cousin was training for marathons on his new prosthetic.

* * *

As the first official year of the twenty-first-century roarin' twenties, her brand new nephew could have not picked a better time to join the world. She was ecstatic in her choice of residency and could not wait to start. After, of course, another medical mission to South America. Her Spanish was still as poor as it was in high school (quite a feat considering her previous mission), but no one at the base camp seemed to mind. After a long two days in the deep jungle, she rather enjoyed her time bantering with the other young professionals and teasing the students—both undergrad and graduate. It was as everyone laughed around her that she noticed a tall figure silently regarding her from the porch of the mess hall some twenty feet away. In an instant, she knew it was him, Mr-Tall-Dark-and-Too-Good-to-Attend-My-Own-Best-Friend's-Wedding. She was almost sure he didn't even know about her newest family member. For a physician claiming enjoyment from mission work even, he was such a selfish snob. Mary's thesis was becoming a premiere reference for grief; her PhD studies were going well. Kit was already certified and practicing on the ward in the children's hospital. Lydia loved her film school.

He didn't know how it happened, but one day his residency program director cleared his schedule and called him in to find out about medical missions. Thus, the early summer of 2020 found him packed and ready for a three week crash course in jungle medicine with his fellow fourth years. With only a few days left, he was walking back from the showers when he saw her again. She was regaling a decent-sized crowd with stories and broken Spanish; almost glowing in her peaceful joy. That was what he noticed first, her joy. He couldn't seem to pull himself away. His best friend was a father for the first time—a father! His little sister was off on a world tour, personally conducting the prestigious orchestras that so adored her compositions. His cousin was in the middle of achieving his goal to run a marathon in every state and a favorite for gold in the Special Olympics, despite his relatively advanced age. And yet he, himself, was in the middle of The South American Amazon mooning over a girl he'd known only a handful of weeks across eight years. It was then that he knew, in despite all other things, that he loved her. The smile she gifted him seemed almost understanding, hopeful, optimistic, meant only for him.

* * *

Ten years to the day she moved into her undergrad dorm, she saw him holding her nephew. Fitzwilliam George Darcy II made faces at her nephew, stood outside her sister's room on the maternity floor, chatted with the haggard but brilliantly joyous brother she'd gained by her sister's marriage. And all she could do about it was stand in stained scrubs and hold Jane's favorite chocolates as if they might make her invisible. She had rushed over as soon as rounds finished. The public hospital across the city where she was a second year surgical resident made her surroundings there seem extravagant. She had not fixed her hair. She had not eaten in the last 12 or so hours. She had not even removed anything from her over-filled scrub pockets. Mary was only recently engaged to a fellow academic. Kit was going on her second anniversary with her policeman husband and was due sometime between Christmas and New Year's. Lydia was on location, filming a new big cat documentary in Asia. Even her mother was dating, albeit sporadically. Yet, he stood there, absolutely oblivious to anything but the child in his arms and the man at his side. At first. In hindsight, she realized the box of chocolates hitting the floor must have alerted him to her presence. At the time, she thought it was fantastically only her dumbfounded but delighted stare. He smiled. She smiled. Her brother gathered his son with a knowing smile. At the end of the visit he walked her to her used jeep, serendipitously next to his much newer model. They stood between their vehicles a long time. When she fumbled for the lights of her apartment, later, it crossed her mind that the strange sensations she'd felt around him might have indicated some sort of primal connection between them.

Ten years to the day of his White Coat ceremony, his best friend called. His, Charlie's, daughter was on her way. Jane, Charlie's wife, was on the other side of the hospital. With a smile, he set off. When he arrived on the scene, one of the senior nurses made his number the primary emergency contact. Charlie's son, Zane, was perfectly happy to be ushered out of his mother's room. He had only been in the waiting area a few minutes when Charlie appeared. Jane, as it seemed, was not particularly in the mood for Charlie's constant cheeriness. They had only just moved to take their vigil closer to Jane's door when _she_ appeared. Elizabeth Amelia Bennet presented herself with ink-stained scrubs and a messy bun worthy of the local high school. He beamed. He loved her; despite her ignorance of the fact. She greeted Charlie with a hug, cuddled Zane in his arms, smiled at him in just that way, checked her professional façade, and then she went in to her laboring sister. Not an hour before midnight, Addison Beth Bingley made her debut to the outside world. Not long before dawn, he gazed, besotted, into her green eyes as they stood in the parking lot. His sister was in Florida, working for Disney on a top secret thing. His cousin was busy with his new wife, whom he had met while in Boston for the marathon. He was absolutely sure. There was no way Elizabeth Amelia Bennet would walk out of his life again.

* * *

It was 2023 when they married. It was also the year he began his fellowship in neuro.

It was 2025 when they signed for a three year tour with Doctors Without Borders less than a week after she passed her boards.

It was 2026 when they returned from Africa; she with a quarter-sized blob of growing human—he with a newfound appreciation for 24hour stores and the creature comforts of home. Jane and Charlie had another girl, Avery Bea Bingley. Mary was busy with two-year-old twins. Kit had two boys with another on the way. Lydia was in cahoots with Georgiana, his sister, down in Disney. The former was in a long term relationship with a prince. The latter was married to a graphic artist and was not yet ready to give up maternity leave. Rick and his wife were enjoying their childlessness, actually, but were all but aunt and uncle to the growing Bennet clan.

It was 2027 when Ethen Carter Darcy met the outside world, though his mother called him Blob with the utmost affection. Later in the year she began her pseudo fellowship in trauma while he signed on as a neurosurgeon in the same hospital. They gladly relocated to a large, though not ostentatious, town house close to their new workplace. And hired a maid. And a nanny. He and his sister did grow up with a nanny, after all, and both of them turned out just fine.

The year 2030 saw another addition to the Darcy family with the birth of Zoey Charoltte in the first week of December. Jane and Charlie settled in a suburb of Boston where Jane could teach English to high schoolers and Charlie could practice law to his heart's content. Mary, her husband, and the twins moved into a historic restoration near Dartmouth's campus. Kit, thankful to have had her three, convinced her husband to adopt just one more which lead to Rick and his wife adopting a pair of sibilings. Georgiana, with her girls Aria and Harmony and husband (former) Prince Charming, relocated to Philadelphia on a top secret mission for Disney.

It was 2035 when Mrs. Bennet had a stroke, suffered long enough for all five of her girls to gather with all five of their respective husbands, her ten grandchildren—plus Georgiana and Rick and their families—and passed away peacefully in the ICU with both doctors and a nurse passing her chart between them. The funeral, surprisingly, consisted of more impressions of Mrs. Bennet's poor nerves (affectionately, of course, no one spoke ill of the dead) than tears. In the aftermath of the funeral, the sisters decided to make a get together a regular occurrence.

The first Semi-Annual Former Bennet Family Vacation took place in 2036 in mid-July. The husbands, organized mostly by Charlie, arranged a couple of rental mansions, side by side, on the coast of South Carolina for 10 days.

It was 2040 when she, Lizzie, found herself a professional protégé in Avery Bingley. For his part, Darcy happily played the consistent parent as he went to and from the hospital at regular times and generally had the weekend off. Lizzie, content with her comparatively erratic schedule, never ceased to delight her children with unexpected lunch dates or impromptu day hikes. Sometimes, her husband went along, but most of the time, he allowed their kids the unexpected experiences with their mother alone, an argument he won by pointing out how many more hours he spent with them and how few years they might even have.

It was 2047 when the Darcy's arranged a town hall in achingly rural Appalachian Mountain town as a clinic space. Will had suggested the trip after Lizzie had decided to teach full time at the University of Boston medical school rather than remain in the hectic schedule of a surgeon specializing in trauma and its necessary 24/7 on call status. He was over the moon, if not a little smug, to see his beloved wife less stressed—just as he said she would be. His workload had largely reduced to be less than 40 hours a week, not including on call twice a month. Given their newfound time and children old enough to either join in or stay at home alone, the mission became a welcome treat.

It was 2084 with 95-year old Dr. Fitzwilliam George Darcy II, MD informed his 90-year-old wife, Dr. Elizabeth Amelia Bennet Darcy, MD, that he might like to have her spend the afternoon with him, rather than running between grandchildren. She readily agreed that a lazy afternoon with her husband might just be the thing. Their granddaughter found them on the chaise lounge in the library when she dropped in to ask about advice on picking a medical school.


End file.
